


hotbutterrible.mp4

by apae (deadlynightshade)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Drinking, M/M, Making Out, Oral Sex, Riding, Top Lance (Voltron), mentions of switch klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:20:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27686153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadlynightshade/pseuds/apae
Summary: Keith and Lance get drunk and decide to film a special video.Written for #Versvember Day 2Prompt: "Let's make a video"
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 121





	hotbutterrible.mp4

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Hope everyone is having a great day!  
> I come bearing two cute and dumb boys trying to film a sexy video while drunk :-P honestly I just love the concept of drunk Klance but whenever I try to write it I always end up skipping their whole disaster drinking part to jump straight to their sexy times... which is fun but kinda frustrating lol anyway, I hope it's still funny enough but yeah!!  
> Also, I wrote like half of this while drunk myself so... heheh  
> Lastly, the title is what I imagine Lance would name the file in his phone (just for it to subtly have the word butt in it, and Keith is not impressed)  
> Hope you enjoy!!

“Let’s make a video.”

The suggestion comes as a whisper that tickles Keith’s jaw, merely a puff of Lance’s hot drunken breath on his heated skin. He can feel the way Lance is smirking, lips turned upwards in a teasing smile, while his hands continue to roam around his clothed body.

They’ve been making out for what feels like hours, _days,_ at least judging by the tingling and sore feeling in his lips. He can barely remember the way they stumbled out of a taxi and up the stairs, entering their shared apartment and giggling uncontrollably as they tried – and failed – to keep their hands off each other. They ended up falling on the couch in a painful collision of limbs and various bones, eventually setting in their current position – Lance comfortably sprawled out on Keith.

“Uh, now?”

“Yeah.”

Keith lets out a low hum, throws his head back on the soft cushion underneath him, and relishes in the dizzy feeling in his head that’s making his body tingle from Lance’s warm touch. “I- I don’t think‘tsa good idea.”

“Why not? Our phones have been enc- encypt- encry- ugh!“

Keith can’t help it, he snorts. Then, because he apparently can’t stop himself, he giggles at Lance’s offended, downright outraged expression. Somewhere among his drunken sluggishness, Keith’s brain registers the way that rolling ‘r’ slipped out in between Lance’s slurred words.

There are fists playfully punching his chest when Lance sits up on his lap. “Oh, shuddup! Pidge _encrypted_ our phones. Ha! Nailed it!”

Keith hums once again, this time consciously distracted by Lance’s enticing ‘r’ sound. There’s just something about it that makes Keith’s blood burn. Lance probably doesn’t even notice, but whenever he gets drunk, his Spanish pronunciation comes out and pays Keith’s horny brain a visit in the form of hard r’s and sibilant s’s – and Keith just _loves_ it.

“Think about it, okay? Just picture it,” comes another whisper, and Keith obediently closes his eyes. “When you’re away for work or I’m in Cuba without you, and we’re missing each other oh so terribly, we could have a lil’ something to, uh, y’know, look at.”

Keith tries to picture it. He pictures himself in a big, lonely, cold hotel bed, getting off to a video of himself desperately riding Lance, hearing his moans and watching his brows scrunched up in pleasure. He pictures Lance in his childhood bed in Cuba, fucking up into his fist and biting his lips to suppress his groans as he watches a video of Keith fucking him. Lance sending a picture of his come-covered hand and a text that says he’s just finished watching his favourite movie.

Keith’s mouth feels suddenly, impossibly dry as he opens his eyes.

“’T’s okay if you don’t wanna do it,” is saying Lance when Keith’s brain manages to reconnect to the human world. His voice is carefully even. “I just thought it’d be fun.”

“No- I,” Keith gulps. “I actually like the idea, uh, a lot.” His cheeks feel uncomfortably warm.

Lance grins above him, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Yeah? Me too.”

An undefined amount of time later, after another unprompted make-out session and a few sobering glasses of water, as well as a long argument over who should be fucking who and why – which is resolved by rolling a die and a promise of filming a second video in the future – they have finally managed to set up Lance’s phone on the dresser next to their bed.

Keith is kneeling in the middle of the bed in just his boxers, eyes hungrily watching Lance as the man undresses himself. In a moment of clarity, he gathers the lube from a nightstand and takes his last piece of clothing off, luckily settling on his back just as Lance throws his underwear in the direction of the bed, clearly aiming at Keith’s face. It falls on the floor with a soft thump.

“Nice try, Sharpshooter,” Keith mocks.

“Sorry, I’m still kinda salty that I’m not the one getting fucked tonight,” comes Lance’s retort as he presses play on the phone. He makes his way towards the bed, turns to give the camera an unnecessary wink, and adds, “But as always, you look like the best fucking snack of my life so I can’t really complain.”

Keith snorts – secretly revels in the familiar feeling of affection that’s bubbling up inside him. He’s unexpectedly reminded that he’s in love with such a ridiculous man, and the proof of it is surely being captured on camera for them both to see in the form of an uncontrollably fond expression. He resigns himself to Lance’s eventual mocking and cooing.

When Lance finally climbs up the bed, Keith wastes no time and wraps his arms around those broad shoulders, pulling him down towards himself. They meet in a sloppy, almost sluggish kiss, their lips devouring each other messily, all tongue and spit – producing wet smacking sounds that quickly inflame both their guts. The fogginess provided by the alcohol in their systems causes them to get distracted through a flurry of trembling breaths, cut-off moans, and deep hums. Keith is vaguely aware of a stray thought – something about what a tantalizing image they must make with their legs entangled, hips grinding against each other slowly, and how he can’t wait to watch the video and admire the picture.

When they eventually part, their eyes meet in a dazed look. There’s a thin thread of spit connecting his mouth to Lance’s retreating lips, and Keith breaks it by licking his own bottom lip.

“Scoot up a bit, yeah? And spread your legs for me.”

Keith instantly follows Lance’s instructions, eager to begin. His dick has been stuck in a half hard state for who knows how long, and it’s almost hurting – he distantly recalls the way Lance was already teasing him long before they called the taxi, crowding him against the wall outside the bar they left their friends at.

Before Lance can even mutter a single syllable, Keith is already shuffling upwards and handing him the lube bottle, his legs spreading open rather obscenely in a silent demand. Lance is happy to oblige, at least judging by the almost giddy enthusiasm with which he moves down the bed and lays on his stomach in front of him. Keith watches his movements, mesmerized by the way Lance bends his long legs and props himself up on his elbows, a clear purpose in mind.

Suddenly, he turns to look behind him, then flops his forehead hard on Keith’s thigh. “Ugh, man, I haven’t even shaved my legs.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Who cares, Lance-“

“Uh, I do! Excuse me for wanting to look like a doll in our very own first porn video!”

“I haven’t shaved either, c’mon.”

“Well duh, your hair makes you look all grizzled and shit! Meanwhile, my Latino genes make me look like a fucking bigfoot, you know that!”

Keith suppresses a smile at his boyfriend’s drunken antics, but he’s starting to feel annoyed by the delay in their sexy times, so he reaches out to cast his fingers through Lance’s messy hair. “You look like a big, strong, super manly man who’s gonna put me in my place. And besides, cryptids are hot.”

“Are you saying that you’d still fuck me if I was completely covered in hair?”

“Lance-“

“Because I know I would. Fuck you, that is. Or let you fuck me. If you were, like, a catboy or some freaky purple cat alien, all fluffy and soft-”

“You wanna turn this video into a vlog and have a nice lil chat or d’you plan on actually getting down to business?”

“Alright, Mr. Sassy Brows.” Finally lifting his head from Keith’s body, Lance props the lube bottle open. He turns towards the phone still standing innocently on the dresser. “Ladies, gaydies, and theydies, now watch me, the Wonder Lance, perform my next trick: gonna turn that frown,” pointing to Keith’s face, “into a big fat O face in no time.” He gives the camera an obnoxious wink.

Keith rolls his eyes, but his annoyance is short lived because next thing he knows, Lance’s lips are wrapping around the head of his cock. And he immediately starts sucking, like the sex fiend he is.

“Oh- _oh_ , shit. Yeah-”

Lance merely hums around him, the vibration doing wonders to Keith’s sensitive dick. While he’s distracted by the sudden pleasure – with his head thrown back on the pillow, legs already trembling, heels digging into Lance’s back, and his fingers pulling at Lance’s hair – a slimy finger makes its way in between Keith’s ass cheeks, slowly circling his hole.

Once his cock grows fully hard, Lance starts clumsily bobbing on it with sluggish movements. He continues to graze his finger around Keith’s rim, occasionally applying just enough pressure to make Keith squirm in an attempt to chase it, before pulling back. Over and over again.

Keith decides to voice his protest by half-heartedly slapping Lance’s shoulder and biting out an exasperated, “Quit the teasing.”

There’s a loud _pop_ , a trail of spit now connecting Lance’s grin to Keith’s cock as he reaches back. “S’ry, can’t help m’self.”

That smirk is now being pressed against Keith’s inner thigh and-

“Oh- fuck, yes- like that-“

Once the first finger has finally breached in, it’s a fairly quick escalation. And if Keith’s moans are slightly louder than normal, his pants breathier and rumblier, well, that’s just all about the alcohol making him lose inhibitions, okay? And maybe Lance’s usually soft encouragements are harsher and huskier than normal, too, his movements a bit sloppy and rushed, but it’s good, good, so good. It so fucking good it has Keith’s eyes rolling in the back of his head, his hands scrambling on the sheets, and his hips grinding against Lance’s talented fingers – all guided by Lance’s mumbled comments about how well he’s taking those fingers, how greedy his hole is just sucking them in, how eager he is to be filled by something thicker.

(Despite the alcohol pleasantly clouding his brain and making him feel every sensation with an almost confusing intensity, Keith refuses to acknowledge the way they are both revealing an unrestrained feeling of satisfaction at doing all this in front of a camera.)

“F-F- _aanh_ , Lance- harder, I’m gonna-“

“Nuh-huh, you’re only gonna come when I say so, kitten. And I say you’re gonna come on my cock tonight, understood?”

Lance proves his point by wrapping a hand around the base of Keith’s cock, starving off his impending orgasm. He thrusts his fingers deep inside Keith’s hole one last time, purposefully brushing against his prostate on the way out. Keith whimpers and writhes on the sheets, overwhelmed, warmth curling in his groin at Lance’s display of domination.

(He doesn’t fight back mostly because he physically can’t – and he really, really doesn’t want Lance to know how blissed out and boneless he feels so early into their session.)

Lance slips his fingers out, cleaning them on Keith’s thigh with a sly grin and receiving an unimpressed, annoyed stare. He lifts himself up and climbs over Keith’s body, stopping to leave a few loud, open-mouthed kisses across the sweaty skin of his abdomen and chest. Then, he kneels in the space between Keith’s legs, hands roaming over his legs and fingers tapping on pale thighs, and he says, “Let’s get to the fun part now, yeah?”

When Lance reaches down to stroke his cock to full hardness, Keith props himself up on his elbows. He watches Lance for a few seconds, listens to the soft, shaky sigh he lets out while he thumbs the slit. An unexpected thought crosses his mind. “Lemme do it, darlin’.”

“S-Sure thing, jus’ go for it.” Lance gulps.

Keith smirks, knowing the effect that specific nickname has on his boyfriend, and eagerly sits up on his knees. He hopes his movements don’t look as uncoordinated and ridiculous as they feel when he bends down and puts his face right in front of Lance’s cock. His head spins a little, likely from the sudden change in position, but he’s determined to put on a show worthy of being forever captured on video, however short it may be. (He’s very well aware of his stretched hole impatiently clenching around nothing and he intends to satisfy his needs rather soon, thank you very much.)

He starts by wrapping his hand around Lance’s cock, jerking it a few times to tug the foreskin back and finally uncover the head, red and shiny and particularly inviting. Keith’s thumb teases the sensitive skin at first, then he’s shooting Lance a quick glance – an unspoken challenge in his eyes – before he guides his mouth towards him, hands gripping his hips.

Fingers are tangling in Keith’s hair and scratching at his scalp as Lance mutters, “Fuckin’ fuck.”

He swallows Lance’s cock slowly, eyes slipping closed and humming softly around it – he will try to deny it later, but he’s _definitely_ making a show of it, and the lively feeling of anticipation coursing inside him is not only from the joy of sucking dick. Keith relishes in the way it hardens under his touch, his tongue messily tracing the fattest veins. He starts sucking on it, purposefully sloppy with it – he even releases a few gargling sounds just to spur Lance on, since he truly wants his boyfriend to make a mess of him.

Keith lets out a moan when Lance’s hips start spasming, giving aborted little thrusts that have him choking as his nose gets buried in long dark curls. He can feel his head starting to spin wildly, an exciting mix of alcoholic bliss and lack of oxygen that makes his dick throb almost painfully from where it’s grazing the bed. He briefly loses himself in it all, both his body and mind hyper focused on the repetitive motion of bobbing back and forth, his tongue swirling occasionally.

Suddenly, the fingers in his hair are gripping tightly and pushing his head back, his mouth releasing Lance’s cock with a loud, obscene, and wet _pop_. Keith’s so out of it he doesn’t even realize that there’s spit dripping from his chin until Lance messily wipes it off with his hand, guiding him into a rough kiss. Damn, he totally got distracted.

“Sorry, you’re so fuckin’ hot, can’t wait to be inside your sweet ass,” says Lance right against his lips, the words half slurred, half whispered before he goes back to kissing him. Once again, it takes a few seconds for Keith’s horny-drunk brain to catch up, but when it does, his lips break into a small smile and Lance eventually leans back.

“Keef,” he whines, leaving scattered bites along Keith’s jaw with playful spite.

“What’s up now?”

Lance bites his lip to hide a mischievous grin, then snorts – an ugly and downright disgusting thing, with spit flying out and hitting Keith right in the face. “You know what’s up, honey, it’s my d-“

“No, ugh, please don’t.” He emphasizes his disapproval with a deadpan stare and a hand reaching out to cover Lance’s uninhibited mouth. At the feeling of Lance’s wet, slimy tongue licking his palm, Keith scratches his cheek.

“Ow! Mean! How could you damage the goods?!”

Keith can’t help but laugh softly, sitting back on his heels as he ignores Lance’s shrieks. “So, how d’you want me?”

“On your knees, obviously. Gotta capture the best part from the best angle,” he explains with a wink – which makes Keith scoff, totally _not_ in a weirdly fond way.

As Keith turns around, he hears and feels Lance reaching out and grabbing the lube bottle, applying it on his cock. Keith settles on his knees, then props his arms on the headboard.

All of a sudden, two harsh slaps land on Keith’s ass in quick succession, and then Lance’s hands are grabbing each cheek, massaging the sore spots and squeezing enthusiastically. Lance hums, then moves his hands to Keith’s hips and lifts him, turning his body slightly, making Keith lose his grip on the headboard. The latter shoots a questioning look behind him and is met with the sight of Lance turned towards the camera, silently pointing at his ass with a hand and showing a thumbs up with the other.

“Lance.”

“Sorry, I just had to document the eighth Wonder of the World, y’know, for purely scientific reasons.”

“Quit playin’ and get that dick inside me, or I’ll just do it myself.”

“So impatient,” comments Lance with a smirk, but he clearly knows better than denying anything to an unfairly horny and drunk Keith – although, he’s very well aware that Lance is (not so) subtly trying to get back at Keith for not being the one who gets “dicked down” – his own words – on camera. “There’ll be time for _that_ later, kitten, now lemme make you feel real good.”

Keith rolls his eyes, thankful that Lance can’t see his face and get distracted again. He arches his back in what he hopes is an enticing curve, popping his ass out to convey the fact that he’s really fucking ready for it. Thankfully, Lance proves himself weak-minded enough that he can’t resist such temptation, muttering an amused and unnecessarily loud, “Noice,” before he spreads Keith’s cheeks and pushes his cock inside.

Keith lets out a satisfactory sigh, instantly feeling himself melting into the mattress now that he’s finally getting filled. He lets himself fall onto his elbows, crossing his forearms and resting his forehead on them, hips already trying to rock back against Lance’s warm body, almost on autopilot.

“Such a sweet little ass,” comes Lance’s almost reverential voice once he’s fully buried inside him, simply grinding against Keith. “Barely even started and you’re already suckin’ me in, so hot and tight and so fuckin’ hungry for my cock you’re already workin’ yourself on it, yeah?”

“You gonna make me ‘feel real good’ or should I take over already?” Keith can’t help but give a snarky reply, although he can’t deny the feeling of warmth spreading all over his body, all the way from his cheeks to his aching groin, when he eventually registers Lance’s filthy words. (He secretly can’t wait to re-watch the video while sober, wants to be able to pay the deserving amount of attention to the whole scene.)

“You’re- so- fucking- infuriating- sometimes!“

Keith chokes on a mix of laughter and broken moans when Lance’s hips finally start moving, as the man cruelly punctuates his exasperated words with uncoordinated, shallow thrusts.

“So are you, darlin’. Now fuck me like you _nngh_ \- mean it, or are you too drunk for that?”

Just like intended, Keith’s words act like a spark that instantly spurs Lance on. He silently thanks the fact that it’s fairly easy to exploit his boyfriend’s weaknesses, knowing that nothing fires him up like a good challenge – it’s a bad trait they share, after all.

Surely of pure spite, Lance builds up a punishing rhythm in no time – which Keith is particularly grateful for, despite his boyfriend’s teasing comments on what a demanding little shit he’s being. Lance’s hands are now gripping his hips tightly enough that nails are digging in deep and his sensitive skin is starting to sting, but Keith can’t bring himself to care about it when that prickling feeling only adds to the overwhelming sensations that are finally, finally, _finally!_ unfolding through his body.

“Is this- what you- wanted?” Lance practically growls, tugging Keith’s ass back against his cock as he fucks into him at a relentless pace.

Keith’s brain is unable to form a witty reply, providing nothing beyond the moans that feel like they’re being punched out of him, while his head keeps spinning in the best way. His cheek is pressed against the mattress, hands gripping the bedsheets in an attempt to brace himself against Lance’s forceful thrusts – or maybe to get away from them, he’s not sure. He’s struggling to keep his balance on his shaking knees, thankful for Lance’s firm grip on his hips but still determined to not let himself slip, especially in front of the camera – mostly to avoid any eventual mocking from Lance’s part.

His ambiguous movements do not go unnoticed, because soon enough Lance is burying himself deep inside him, grinding against Keith’s ass and then grabbing his arms. Keith is so startled that he lets his arms get crossed behind his back without a complaint, a shiver zapping through his body when Lance wraps a hand around both of his wrists, trapping them against Keith’s lower back.

“You asked for it, remember?” comes Lance’s strained whisper against his ear. The words work like a match, instantly lighting a fire inside Keith – which promptly explodes when Lance adds a breathy, “Stop fuckin’ running from it, kitten.”

It’s hell after that – or heaven, really, must depend on one’s perspective. For Keith, though? It’s a mix of both, and the reason is fairly simple:

As soon as a familiar and highly anticipated warmth starts pooling in his gut, Keith readily and enthusiastically loses himself in it. His mind goes blank, body focused on a single purpose: finally reaching that blissful feeling. He can feel his blood burning inside his veins, can only hear his moans getting mixed with Lance’s grunts, the dirty sound of skin slapping against skin and the headboard of their bed banging on the wall, punctuating the rhythm of their bodies, and it’s all so, so good, really hot and super sweaty and-

And then Lance is fucking stopping, plopping his forehead on the back of Keith’s neck with a pained “umpf!”

“Hey! What the fuck?”

“S’ry, got a cramp.” The explanation gets mumbled against his skin and Keith groans, loud and inhibited, dramatically – or rather angrily – voicing his disapproval.

“Fuckin’ knew I’d have to do everythin’ myself.”

Blinded by irritation and unrestrained arousal, Keith totally forgets about the whole video situation. His brain merely yells at him to take this moment of distraction to his advantage, so he breaks free from the grip on his arms and then wiggles out from under Lance’s body. Lance is so winded he barely makes a noise of protest as he gets manhandled like a sack of potatoes, and then he’s too busy trying to massage his aching thigh as Keith shoves him down on the mattress and straddles him.

“Holy shit- Keith, babe, this is super fuckin’ hot but my thigh really hurts, can you like, calm down for a sec-“

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it, _honey_ ,” Keith spits out. It comes out aggressive and commanding despite the mocking pet name and the fact that he’s panting just as much as his boyfriend, but the message is clear – especially considering the way Lance has been stunned into silence, a curiously pained look in his eyes.

Keith can’t lie, his arms and knees are feeling kinda stiff, but he’s fuelled by an overpowering frustration now, so he wastes no time to prop himself up and let Lance’s hard cock slip back inside him. He starts rocking on it almost feverishly, one hand bracing on Lance’s sweaty chest, the other reaching behind him, gripping the thigh he’s straddling. He tries to rub somewhat gently over the sore muscle, but he mostly ends up scratching Lance’s skin in the heat of the moment – and well, he’d feel guilty about it, but he doesn’t hear any complaint.

If anything, Lance seems to have forgotten all about his pain now that Keith is bouncing on his cock with purpose. He’s even letting out those sweet sounds of his which signal that he’s getting closer his climax – half gasps, half broken groans.

“I’m close-“

“Unnff- yes, Keith- Want you- to make a mess of me.”

Keith throws his head back, hips stuttering in his movements. Hands suddenly grip him tight, then Lance’s feet are planting on the mattress and he starts pushing his own hips up, fucking into him brutally.

“Aanh- mmnh- Lance-“

“F-ffuck, yes, kitten, come f’r me, come _on_ me, please-“

Keith feels his whole body lock up and he comes with a drawn-out moan that will surely make him cringe once he re-watches the whole scene. Lance keeps fucking him through it all, ever the generous lover. Through the haziness in his brain, Keith remembers to wrap a hand around his cock, only needing to squeeze the head before he’s shooting white ropes of come all over Lance’s stomach, feeling his hands tremble wildly.

Once he comes back to himself, Keith eyes the mess on Lance’s skin and experiences a nasty epiphany. When Lance slumps down on the mattress, whining about a second cramp, Keith scoots back and lets the hard cock slip out of his ass, grabbing it with shaking hands and stroking it quickly, harsh tugging motions that will surely-

“Come for me, darlin’.”

“Fuck kitten you’re- _fuck_ -“

“Wanna dirty you up, make a _real_ mess of you.”

And he’s finally coming. Hips rolling to fuck into Keith’s hand, abs straining and glinting with sweat, chest heaving, his head thrown back from pleasure – Lance looks like the best wet dream of Keith’s life, honestly, and his head spins with the need to record such a wonderful sight. Only now he remembers Lance’s phone.

When he gets up, Lance only hums – a silent question. Keith staggers towards the dresser and reaches for the phone. Once he’s back on the bed, kneeling next to Lance’s body, his boyfriend opens his eyes and Keith just fucking _melts_ , pointing the camera on him as a second thought.

“So pretty,” he comments, not bothering to hide the fondness in his voice. Lance grins lazily, swatting a hand in his direction in what Keith assumes to be fake modesty, considering the peace sign he directs to the camera the next second. Keith rolls his eyes at that. Then, he traces a finger through the come drying on Lance’s belly, spreading it around as if lost in a reverential trance. “So filthy.”

Lance giggles and swats away the hand currently holding the phone, whining, “Keeeith, don’t get all soft ‘n’ worshippy on me now. I’ll get whiplash from my dick trying to get hard again and I just know I can’t, I’m way too drunk to go again and- I’m just fucking dead, man. Wanna know why? _You_ killed me. You and your amazing cock-riding skills and unfairly sexy voice just ended me. Goodbye, sweet world.”

As Lance goes on with his usual post-sex, non-sensical, and no-filter rambling, Keith stops the recording and flops down next to him, feeling himself deeply sated but getting sleepier with each passing second.

“At least I died doing what I love most.”

Keith hums. “Wha’? Fuckin’?”

“Getting’ your strong hands all over me. Although, gotta say, tappin’ that sweet ass of yours is a big contender.”

Keith snorts, a truly ugly sound that he tries to hide by burying his head in the pillow. Lance starts giggling, cuddling closer to him. They argue briefly over who should be the one getting up to clean them both up, eventually succumbing to a lazy and dirty nap.

When they re-watch the video the next day, they’re both hungover and consequently high on painkillers, so they end up crying laughing at the overall bad quality of the video – their drunken clumsiness, the fact that the angle is all wrong, the way their moans and voices sound ridiculous. Despite the many flaws, the video does end up being sexy enough for them to get worked up again, and it does lead to a second video. (And maybe another, and another, and a few more.)

**Author's Note:**

> I see them uploading some of their best videos on the internet and then becoming amateur porn sensations ;-)


End file.
